


And Bind Us Forever (This, I Promise)

by isuilde



Category: Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger
Genre: Afterlife but not really, M/M, Major Character Injury, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Series, Pre-ToQger movie, Timeline What Timeline, bending canon the way i like it tbh, i'm really sorry that this is confusing, underage because of Souji
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7594654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Souji falls in battle, he is given three choices.</p><p>(A look at how Rippuukan Souji loves--his friends, his team, his partner, and one Ian Yorkland.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Bind Us Forever (This, I Promise)

**Author's Note:**

> It was midnight and I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd wrote some sort of Souji's character study on my phone while trying to sleep. It got away from me.
> 
> This... honestly was not I had in mind?? This got super dramatic. And sappy. I'm not really sure what I was trying to do here.
> 
> Takes place post-series, where Daigo/Amy didn't happen, pre-ToQger movie. Let's just assume that sometimes Creator Devius sends down a bunch of army and monsters and Kyouryuuger's fighting them, not as often as they used to be, but often enough. I don't know. Hopefully you'll enjoy this even if just a tiny bit!

There is a smooth black thread winding around the base of his little finger, leading somewhere far down the road behind his back, its end unseen.

Souji tugs. It pulls at him, but doesn't strain.

By his side, Torin smiles.

"Choose bravely, Souji."

> **\-----o0o------**

When he first realizes that he'd fallen in love with Ian, of all people, Souji stops dead in his track home and makes a detour to the woods instead. His partner is waiting further in the depth of the woods, as if sensing Souji's visit this time is to share secrets he isn't even sure he should keep from the rest of the team. They're a team, Daigo always says, and Souji, after years of distancing himself from others, is still trying to figure out what it means.

"Of all people," Souji groans. "Why him?"

The velociraptor nudges his shoulder gently with his muzzle, growling softly. Souji makes a face.

"What do you mean, _he's not that bad?_ He's a playboy, he's never honest, he never takes anything seriously, he's a coward, he broods so easily--"

The roar Zakutor gives him sounds like a laugh.

Souji stares at his own hands--callloused fingers too used to holding swords, too used to holding wishes and pride: of getting stronger, of protecting people who matter, of striving for perfection. He thinks of Ian, of the sad quirk on his lips as he presents yet another flower to a lady, of his vow to protect his friends, of the single-minded focus in his gaze as he examines his research object, and wonders if they aren't that much different, after all.

"--he's passionate," Souji breathes out. "And more than anyone else,he hates it when others get hurt."

Zakutor's hum echoes in the quiet forest, a wordless agreement. Souji nearly stumbles forward when claws gently push him forward, encouraging if clearly playful, and he looks back and up, lips tugging up in a small smile for his partner.

"Zakutor," he says, this time with conviction. "I have terrible taste."

Zakutor's eyes dance in mirth.

**\-----o0o------**

The thing about their team is that individually, they're all very strong people. They might not be the best in each of their preferred fighting style, but they're all hard-headed enough to always scramble back up when they're pushed down, and really, bravery takes care of the rest. Souji sometimes thinks that instead of their strength, it's their stubbornness that Daigo trusts in, and finds that he doesn't mind either way. Theirs is a great team, one that inexplicably, seamlessly slots into his life as if he's prepared space for them in him all along, and Souji would never think twice in trusting his life in their hands.

But then, despite the power that blesses them, they're only humans. And there comes a time when sheer stubbornness is not enough to keep him on his feet.

It starts with Amy's horrified shriek, "Souji-kun, _watch out!_ "

They've only just arrived at the battle--Utsusemimaru and Daigo had been the ones stumbling upon a Deboss monster and its small legion of Zorima, clearly sent by Creator Devius that they have yet managed to track down. It almost feels like a routine to jump into the fray disregarding the fact that they haven't transformed yet. To Souji, it is the best moment to test himself--how far he could go with only Feather Edge in one hand, how far his swordmaship alone would be able to carry him in the battle. It isn't arrogance, though he would admit that it's pride, and sometimes he catches Ian's exasperated shakes of head as they jump into the fight.

He barely strikes down four Zorima when Amy shrieks, and he has one split-second to instinctively moves away from his current spot, before the lance pierces through his stomach.

The pain _burns_. His legs give out before he even realizes it, buckling from underneath him, and it's only by instinct that he manages to stab Feather Edge onto the ground and uses it to prop himself up. The lance disintegrates into black shadow, leaving blood spilling freely from his wound, pooling around his feet, crimson red against the dry earth. His brain fizzles out for a moment, his sight blurring as he sways dangerously, and he can't think of anything aside from the _agonizing pain_ , biting hot-red so excruciatingly that Souji can't remember how to _breathe--_

Somewhere in the distance, there are people shouting. His name, Souji recognizes through the haze of pain, yelled in urgent tones, and then there are bullets whizzing past his heads, hitting their marks as the Zorima around him fall before bursting into slime. Souji's grip on Feather Edge slips and gravity pulls him in--his weight too much for his legs to bear--but instead of the ground, he meets a pair of arms instead, familiar black leather against his cheek, and Souji thinks, _Ian._

"Souji!"

Something red blurs on the edge of his vision, taking another Zorima down before Daigo's jacket swims into view, followed by a the blur of black that is Amy's hair, billowing in the wind as she dropkicks the ones Daigo couldn't reach. He hears the echo of Utsusemimaru's Zandar Thunder, so very close, and sees Nobuharu's blue uniform flash behind Ian's shoulder. His team, for once closing in and fighting in a tight circle, and Souji's brain confusedly asks _why,_ before his body is jostled slightly, and the pain explodes.

Someone is screaming. Distantly, Souji realizes that it's _him._

A curse in fluent English and gentle fingers on his cheek brings him back--Ian's face swims into focus, eyes terrified, lips trembling around the syllables of Souji's name, but he sounds so faraway. And it doesn't make any sense; Ian is right here, pressed against him, and yet Souji can't hear him.

Hands are pressing against his stomach, desperate and shaking, and huh, isn't is curious that suddenly the pain also feels faraway? Almost as if he's numb, Souji thinks, and the thought makes him feel cold in a way he's never been before.

He doesn't want Ian to make that face.

He needs to get up and fight. For earth, for the Zyuudenryuu, for Zakutor. For his friends.

He doesn't want to--

_What was he thinking again?_

"Ian," he tries to say, but his tongue feels like lead and darkness is dancing on the edges of his vision, rapidly crowding in. He isn't sure what he's going to say-- _I'm fine, help the others, it's just a scratch, you look ricidulous, please don't make that face--_

Or perhaps _Ian, I'm scared._

The last thing he sees is the tears rolling down the curve of Ian's cheeks.

**\-----o0o------**

Once, when he happens to be the first one out of their little gang to arrive at Tiger Boy when it's Amy's shift, Amy brings him a cookie along with his cream soda, and Souji eyes her suspiciously.

"I'm bribing you," Amy says cheerfully. "So tell me what happened."

The cherry on top of his cream soda bobs as Souji pokes it with a straw. "What happened?" he echoes the question, and earns himself a light smack on his arm. He makes a face--seriously, his team and their tendency to randomly smack him.

"Nossan said you were the one who snapped Ian out of his brooding mode, after King, Ucchii and I got trapped under that ridiculous stone slab."

Souji tilts his head, holds Amy's curious gaze for a moment before dropping it and turns away to sip his cream soda instead. Amy resorts to pinch his palm, this time, and Souji yelps in protest. "Amy-san!"

"If Ian hadn't gotten through with Kentrospiker, it would have been really bad."

Souji pauses.

Here is the thing about Kyouryuuger: they're a very good team. They're brave, they blaze through the battlefield and make it through with a grin, most of the time, because they're _the bravest team in history_. But they also don't talk about what they feel in the midst of battle--the surge of bravery that comes with transforming almost always drowns everything else, but sometimes things get worse and something else surfaces; anger, fear, _panic_. It's something to recall only after the battle, something that hits when adrenaline wears off, and none of them ever really talked about it.

It isn't false bravery, no. It's relief in the wake of how everything turns out okay in the end, and reluctance to remember how it was nearly not. That Amy chooses to bring it up in this conversation--

"It wasn't me," Souji says at least.

Amy blinks. "Huh?"

"Snapping Ian out of his brooding mode," Souji clarifies, lips tugging up in a smile. "It wasn't me. I don't think it was me. It's all him, on his own. I was just--pointing out things he 'd forgotten, I guess."

Amy lets a rare silence between the two of them stretches a while, before she smiles, one hand reaching up to ruffle Souji's hair affectionately. "I see."

Souji scrunches up his nose in protest. "Amy-san, I'm not a kid."

Amy laughs. "You're not, I guess. I mean, You understand Ian best out of us all." She glances back at the counter, making sure thtat the owner isn't around to catch her slacking off, before sliding into the seat across Souji. "How do you make sense of Ian, anyway? He used to frustrate you so much."

 _I fell in love,_ Souji answers inwardly, but he knows that's not why. This isn't just about falling in love.

"We've never been so different," he replies with a smile. "He and I."

**\-----o0o------**

There's a path laid out before him, made of black stones like the one that winds around the inner garden of his grandfather's old house. It looks well-worn, clearly a path a lot of people have gone through, going straight ahead where he can't see the end. Or if there is even one.

Everything around him is bright white.

Souji blinks slowly, turning to stare at the stone path as he tries to gather his thoughts. He's dressed in his usual hakama, barefooted the way he always is when he practices in the dojo, but his bouken is nowhere in sight. He doesn't remember how he gets here, doesn't really remember what happened before. He thinks he remembers Ian crying (which is weird, Ian hates crying in front of people), and he remembers Amy dropkicking a Zorima--were they fighting, before? Why is he here, then?

"Hello?" he calls out, listens to his voice echo off the seemingly endless white. The last syllable resounds continuously, almost like someone is lobbing his word back at him. He takes a step forward tentatively--the path is the only speck of color other than his hakama in the bright white that is his surrounding, cold under his bare feet but not unbearably so.

He supposes he doesn't have a choice but to keep walking.

"Hello," he calls out, again, after a while, because walking in silence makes him uneasy, especially when there is nothing in sight and he isn't even sure if this path actually leads somewhere. "Is anyone here?"

Each syllable echoes off nothingness, a jumbled noise in his ears. Souji frowns, but keeps his pace steady, walking down the only path there is, and hopes he isn't incidentally making things worse. Not that he has any other choice.

_Does he?_

His steps falter, comes to a stop, and Souji thinks, in slight confusion, _what?_

"That you're able to think in such a way even here is also proof of how brave you are."

Those words, oddly, don't echo. Nor does the heavy flap of wings that reaches Souji's ears, or the familiar snap of fingers that he's missed so, so much. Souji watches, wide-eyed, as a silent whirl of white feathers that blend seamlessly with their surroundings rises before him, hanging in the unmoving air, before it finally parts.

And Torin steps out.

**\-----o0o------**

"I trust you," he tells Ian one evening, as the sky is dyed red and orange and the sun kisses the horizon. He watches Ian's shadow lengthen on the street of the _shoutengai_ they're on, watches the bright lights of the shops around them cast an odd shade to Ian's figure, and wonders if it's okay to say this now. "With my life. And everything that I am."

Ian looks at him, his smile a sad curve of his lips. "Should you?"

Souji shrugs. "Does it matter? I trust you nonetheless."

Their silence stretches until the end of the _shoutengai_ , where a a group of middle-aged mothers gather around the infamous _mochi-ya_ , laughing over the shared antics of their children. Three kids run past them, their shouts filling the air, floating all the way back to the other side of the _shoutengai_. Ian sighs as he pauses in his step, looking up the somber evening sky, and Souji waits.

"Why?"

Souji rolls his eyes. "It's no good asking for answers you're scared of admitting," he says. Ian's hands are tight fists on his sides, and in his eyes are beautiful, beautiful emotions that Souji loves to see. "You should stop being so scared, Ian. There's so much more of you that you'd be able to see yourself, if you stop being so scared."

The eyes that find Souji's own looks much, much younger.

It's so easy to forget that Ian is so much older than him.

"I trust people I could understand," Souji smiles. "And it's easy to understand someone who is really similar to yourself."

This isn't a confession. Souji hasn't told Ian anything about his feelings--about being in love, about helplessly falling deeper with every single day he spends with Ian around. It isn't a confession, he thinks, but.

But.

With the way Ian's eyes widen, and the way understanding _dawns_ , Souji thinks this has, perhaps, been a confession.

**\-----o0o------**

The sound that tears out of his chest is _painful_ , and it brings tears to his eyes.

"Torin," he croaks, voice caught in his throat by emotions, and the tears really don't help. He heaves a breath, makes a noise that could have been a sob had it not been muffled with the back of his hand. His eyes are wide as he reaches out, trembling fist grasping Torin's arm. "Torin..?"

"And none other," Torin agrees, words as warm as his smile. "It's good to see you, Souji. Though I wish it had been under different circumstances."

Souji lets out a broken laugh. "Like, with you alive?"

Torin's smile turns sad. "I'm sorry."

"No--" he rubs the back of his hand against his eyes, drying the tears. He should be happy. Being able to see Torin like this is perhaps a small miracle, and there should be no place for sad memories. "You did what was necessary. You fought what we couldn't have."

A hand squeezes Souji's shoulder. "I wish I could have done so without causing all of you such grief."

"I know you wouldn't have done it if there had been any other way," Souji says, and chuckles when Torin pats his shoulder comfortingly. "Everyone misses you. The Spirit Base is emptier, without you. We're alright, though. Or at least--" he casts a gaze around the endless bright white around them. "I'll be, once I figured out how to get out of this place."

Torin clears his throat. "About that, Souji..."

Souji glances up at him curiously. "Do you know where this is, Torin? Is this some sort of Deboss monster's dimension?"

For a moment, both of them stay silent.

Then Torin asks, "Don't you remember?"

 _Remember what_ , Souji wants to ask, because he really can't think of what had happened before he even realized he was here. There is nothing beyond the bright white, his mind whispers, except Souji knows there has to be, because he keeps remembering Ian crying and the blur of Amy's hair in the wind, and he's been grasping at the strands as he walks--

Oh.

His eyes widen.

Oh.

**\-----o0o------**

Daigo, unlike Utsusemimaru who flushes red to the roots of his hair, looks entirely too carefree for someone who just got caught kissing his best friend by the youngest member of their team.

Souji considers the way Utsusemimaru's hand worries the bottom edge of Daigo's jacket, before nodding to himself and, despite feeling heat rising up his cheeks, says, "I'll leave you both to it."

He turns back to the platform--his gaburevolver out, ready to warp back out of the Spirit Base to give Daigo and Utsusemimaru privacy--when Utsusemimaru calls out tentatively, "Souji-dono, wait."

Souji does, because Utsusemimaru is and will always be his teacher, and he listens.

For a moment, it's pure awkwardness hanging in the air, one that Souji thinks only makes his face redder, because hey, he's just caught _King and Ucchii kissing_. And while he hasn't been blind to the lovestruck gazes Utsusemimaru sometimes have upon seeing Daigo walk into the room, or the way Daigo latches and hovers around their resident Sengoku-period samurai all the time, catching them sucking each other's faces isn't exactly in his life plans.

Then Daigo chuckles, and just like that, Utsusemimaru laughs along, and the tension in the air dissipates.

"Come here and sit with us, Souji-dono," Utsusemimaru beckons, his usual smile curving up his lips. Souji tentatively steps down the platform, obediently sits down next to Utsusemimaru while Daigo just stands by him, hip leaning against Utsusemimaru's shoulder in a way that somehow looks intimate. Souji thinks his face is burning with just the thought of it.

"Sorry, Souji," Daigo grins, reaching out to ruffle his hair, and Souji automatically scrunches up his nose. "Didn't think anyone would drop by so soon. I swear I was going to take it to the bed-- _ow, Ucchii_!"

Utsusemimaru, having elbowed Daigo's side none-too-gently, looks scandalised. "King-dono!"

Daigo sighs. "Ucchii, Souji isn't ten year-old, he knows about these things."

"It's inapproppriate," Utsusemimaru mutters, peering back at Souji, who is resolutely keeping his gaze down. "And Souji-dono might be uncomfortable--"

Souji's head snaps up; eyes wide, embarrassment vanishing in an instant as he shoots to his feet. "What? No--Ucchii, it's not that! I'm not uncomfortable--I mean, I guess I'd be uncomfortable if I caught you kissing again, but--I'd be uncomfortable catching anyone kissing! It's not--not you and King, I'm happy for you both and I don't mind--not that I have a say in it, but--"

"Souji," Daigo cuts in, grinning from ear-to-ear. "We know that. We know _you_."

Oh. Souji blinks, relaxes, before sitting back down. "Yeah," he says, feeling rather lame. "I'm happy for you both."

Utsusemimaru smiles brightly. "We just wanted you to know that we appreciate it, Souji-dono." He pauses, hesitates a bit, before reaching out to place his hand on Souji's shoulder. "And if you need to talk about your feelings for Ian-dono--"

Souji chokes on air. Daigo bursts out laughing.

"Ucchii, I don't think we should spring that on Souji all of a sudden--"

"You guys knew?!"

"Souji-dono isn't being very subtle about it."

"We kind of guessed? Ahahah, it's fine, Souji, it's not like we're telling everyone--though I think Amy and Nossan already knows, too."

Souji buries his face in his palms, tries to breathe through the embarrassment. He catches Utsusemimaru peer up at him--since when did he stand up--and sighs audibly in resignation, throwing himself back onto his seat and then drops his head onto the table.

Daigo pats him on the back. "So, are you gonna tell him?"

"Tell him what," Souji says dryly. "I have nothing to tell. There's nothing to tell, King."

Utsusemimaru scoots closer. "Don't say that, Souji-dono! If you don't tell him, nothing is going to begin at all!" He bumps a fist against Souji's shoulder gently. "You have to fight!"

"Ucchii's right, Souji," Daigo nods, and the pats are turning into light slaps on the back. "You have to be brave! You wouldn't know how Ian feels if you don't--"

"Ian," Souji mutters tiredly. "Already knows."

The slaps on his back stops. "What, what? Did you confess already?"

Souji thinks of Ian's gaze, under the last of the evening sunrays at the end of the shoutengai, and feels like curling up into a ball. "Not exactly. He figured it out, I think. And he hasn't--brought it up or anything, so I guess that means he's not... interested..."

A pause hangs in the air, in which Souji could literally hear Daigo and Utsusemimaru exchange glances. "So... Souji-dono didn't actually tell him? Not in the exact words?"

The slap that hits his back this time is hard enough to resound in the air and makes Souji yelp in pain. He winces, raises his head and turns to glare at Daigo, opening his mouth to protest (seriously, why does everyone like to smack him around), but Daigo beats him to it: "Souji! Are you stupid?!"

Souji loses track of what he was going to say. "What."

"Are you," Daigo enunciates, his gaze sharp. "Stupid? This is Ian we're talking about. You know him too, Souji. Ian is never honest when it comes to his feelings."

"I know that!" Souji throws back, anger rising easily at the thought of _what does King know about his feelings, how is it that King understands so easily when he wasn't even there, how could he know--what difference does it make anway_?! "I know Ian! I know him--I know him when he understood something and I know that he knows now, about my feelings, and what am I supposed to do? I can't just corner him and--"

Behind him, someone warps into the Spirit Base, but Souji is too worked up to notice.

"--tell Ian that I'm in love with him!"

Silence descends heavily upon the room. Utsusemimaru opens his mouth but no words come out, eyes wide.

Daigo, on the other hand, smiles.

"Of course you can," he tells Souji, bumps a fist gently against Souji's chest. "You just have to be brave." His gaze flicks behind Souji, smile widening into a grin. "Both of you."

Souji freezes even before he hears the familiar sigh. "Oh my. King, you could never refrain from sticking your nose into people's business, could you?"

"Only if it's my friends," Daigo laughs heartily, one hand tugging Utsusemimaru up amd against him. "Let's go, Ucchii. They can figure the rest out themselves."

Utsusemimaru glances at Souji, still standing stiff, and mouths, _good luck_. Souji thinks Zakutor is probably feeling very disappointed at him right now, because he can't even find the courage to turn around and face Ian. He hears both Daigo and Utsusemimaru warps out of the base, leaving absolute silence behind, and wonders if Ian could hear his heartbeat, right now.

It's Ian's footsteps closing their distance that breaks the silence. Their shoulders knock as Ian stands beside him, pressing close, and when Ian opens his mouth, it's to say, "I think I like you too, Boy."

Souji lets out a shaky laugh. He thinks he's been stupid. "I know."

Ian's fingers are trembling, too, a little bit, when they curl around Souji's. "Do you?"

"Wasn't sure," Souji says, and god, his chest is going to burst. "But I think I knew, somewhat."

"I see," Ian says, and there's a smile in his voice, in his eyes, on his lips, when he tilts Souji's face and leans in for a kiss.

It's short, but it ends with Ian's chuckle, and Souji feels everything is alright in the world.

**\-----o0o------**

He was bleeding out. His team was fighting around him. _Ian was crying_.

He remembers.

He looks around at the empty bright white surrounding him, at the black stone path that goes on endlessly, at feathers suspended in the air, and at Torin--his expression unreadable, watching him closely.

The fact that he meets Torin here--

Realization dawns in a way that makes his chest tighten. He is not so brave after all, because his voice trembles uncontrollably when he voices the thought out, "am I dead?"

Torin's hand on his shoulder tightens. "So you remembered."

Souji closes his eyes. "I remember the battle. I remember the lance--it went through me here--" he touches his stomach; no wound, unmarred, and isn't that curious, that he doesn't even have the scar to remember it here. "Everyone was fighting. I tried to stay awake but--"

"You wouldn't have been able to, with such a wound," Torin says. "But it was a brave attempt. The others managed to hold Deboss Army back while Ian rushed you to the hospital."

Souji looks down. "And I died."

Torin glances at him, smiling. "I wonder about that."

"Huh?"

"You're currently unconscious--a state of coma, would be the correct term, I think. It is exactly why I could come and meet you here."

A state of coma. "Because I'm technically dead?"

Torin laughs. "Don't be so pessimistic, Souji. You're being given the chance to choose."

"Choose what--" he doesn't understand. There is only one path here that seems to go on and on, and virtually nothing else but an expanse of white that echoes back everything he says. "Torin, I don't get it."

The look Torin gives him is amused. "There is only one path here, Souji, but there are two directions."

Ah. Souji wonders why it didn't dawn on him before. "Forward or back," he nods, glancing back towards the way he'd come from. "I can choose to go back?"

"You can," Torin says. "But going back means you'll be losing weeks of your time, perhaps, because your body isn't strong enough to hold your consciousness now. But you'll live. I can't tell you how long until you'd wake up, or if you'd wake up at all, and I imagine it'd be very painful, but to some extent, you'll live."

"But I wouldn't be able to do anything. Wouldn't be able to fight, or help the others at all." He isn't sure he likes that.

"To each their fight," Torin pats his shoulder kindly. "Yours wouldn't be easy either, if you choose to go back."

Souji eyes the other direction. "And going forward is letting go."

"Even the bravest warriors need rest," Torin agrees, this time with a contented smile. "It isn't bad at all, on the other side. If you choose to go and rest, I'll walk the rest of the way with you. We'll be able to talk again, perhaps have a match or two."

The excitement underlining Torin's words tickles a chuckle out of Souji's throat. "Ramirez and Tessai aren't enough company for you?"

"Oh, things are always interesting," Torin laughs softly, sounding much more free than Souji has ever heard him in life. "So much that it'd be an honor to share them with more friends. But Souji," he turns, facing Souji properly, holding his gaze. "The fact that I could talk to you _here_ also means that you have another option."

Souji's mouth hangs open. "I do?"

"You fell in battle," the smile Torin gives him is proud. "That makes you qualified to be a Spirit Ranger."

**\-----o0o------**

Nobuharu says, "Hmmmmmmmm."

Souji tries tuning him out and focuses on the numbers scrawled all over his math homework.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm." Nobuharu holds out.

Souji erases his previous answer, starts scrawling another series of number, and forgets which part he made the mistakes in earlier. He sighs, letting go of his pencil, and turns to Nobuharu with a frown. "Nossan."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"I'm doing my homework," Souji points out.

"And I'm worried," Nobuharu also points out. Souji stares at him, torn between annoyed and unsure about what is going on, but Nobuharu is still making the long, grating noise of "Hmmmmmmmmm," and there is no choice but to acknowledge that if he wants to do his homework in peace.

"Fine," he sighs, turning to face Nobuharu, who now props his head on his hand on the table, still holding out the "Hmmmmm" noise. "What is it?"

Nobuharu pauses, and Souji gets about five seconds to appreciate the blessed silence, before the older man says, "You and Ian."

Something in Souji's stomach lurches. He wonders if it's too much, expecting all his teammates to be supportive of their newly blooming relationship. But Nobuharu had been happy for Daigo and Utsusemimaru, had been enthusiastic in congratulating the two, cracking jokes about Utsusemimaru jumping forth so far to the future only to fall for Daigo. He'd thought everyone would be okay with him and Ian, too--Daigo did mention that Nobuharu knew. But now, he isn't so sure anymore.

Nobuharu flicks his forehead gently. Souji winces, drawing back, and frowns (honestly, his team needs to stop these tiny physical violence--he is beginning to feel kind of betrayed every time).

"Don't make that face," Nobuharu says, grinning. "I'm happy for you both. I'm just worried if he's treating you right."

Souji doesn't let up his frown. "Ian wouldn't hurt me."

"He would never," Nobuharu agrees. "But sometimes we hurt people without realizing it, and you two are scary when you're fighting. Well," he pauses, considers what he'd said. " _You_ 're scary when you're angry, but Ian just deflects everything and pretends that everything is alright, and that's no good either."

Souji bristles. "We won't mess up the team. Even if--even if this doesn't work out--"

"Souji-kun," Nobuharu says, calmly, patiently. "I am just worried."

And worries are sometimes, Souji knows, unfounded. Nobuharu is the oldest of them all, and Souji knows he worries about all of them, though not in a way that everyone could easily see. The slightest flare of offense earlier sizzles out to nothing, just like that, and Souji looks down, eyes following the visible crack of the stone table that his hand covers. Fighting the heat that climbs up his face, he takes a breath and says, "We're good. Great, even."

"Oh?"

"We talk," Souji mutters, wishing that his face would not flare as red as Daigo's jacket. "He tells me about Shiro-san, about his travels, his dreams. He asks me about school, and what my plans are for the future. I'm--happy, that we talk. A lot." A pause, and Souji scrambles to continue, "We only do things that I ask him to! He never--tells me to do things, or even suggests anything, he says he'll wait until I--"

"Woooow, wow wow wow wow, oookaaayy," Nobuharu says loudly, both hands rising up in a giving-up gesture. "Details on that is going to be too much, uh, information, so I'll. Yeah." He grins, looking as embarrassed as Souji feels. "But you think you're good. Great?"

Souji feels a smile curving up his lips, despite his burning cheeks. "Great."

"But I'm still worried," Nobuharu sighs almost theatrically, one hand covering his eyes in a dramatic move. "So, Souji-kun, humor this old man--"

"You're not that old," Souji throws back almost automatically.

"Humor this old man--" Nobuharu repeats, lips twitching up even as he tries his best to look stern. "And let me know whenever you feel that you're not okay, alright?"

He wants to say that he's not a kid. He wants to say that he knows what he's getting into, that he wants this, with Ian, that he'll give Ian hell himself if Ian messes with him--not that he thinks Ian ever would. But Nobuharu knows all that already, even if he still treats Souji like a kid, and he just can't help but be worried.

Once, Souji would have found it annoying. Now, it just means that he has people who cares.

He wonders if Ian knows this, too, and that's why he always smiles at them.

"Yeah, Nossan," he replies, smiles when Nobuharu gives him two thumbs up. "I'll let you know."

**\-----o0o------**

He'd wondered once, after the whole incident with Ramirez and Bunpachy, in the privacy of this room, Zakutor's newly charged Zyudenchi in hand, _what would it feel to be a Spirit Ranger_?

Ones who keep fighting even after their deaths in battle. Who exist in this world, but doesn't exist nonetheless. Here but not here, tied to this world only by the power of Zyuudenryuu, watching the world go past as they stay the same, and perhaps see their dearest ones pass away. He's seen the melancholy look in Ramirez's eyes, several times, when he brings assortments of souvenirs back to the Spirit Base after his travel, and Souji wonders what sort of memories they remind Ramirez of.

Being a Spirit Ranger seem exhausting.

But going back means unable to do anything for anyone. There's no guarantee he'd wake up at all--and wouldn't that be prolonging everyone's grief, then? Going forward, oddly, seems to be the easiest way out. Cut the ties to life, here, spare himself the pain and everyone the long wait and grief.

Then again--

"To be a Spirit Ranger," he starts hesitantly, "I have to be completely dead. Right?"

Torin nods. "At least normally."

And there's the catch. "Normally?"

"You're still tied to the world of the living. Going forward would mean cutting the ties, but if you choose to be a Spirit Ranger, the ties would keep your soul safely tied to your body despite entering the realm of the spirits. Think of it like a lifeline--in a way, it is."

Souji coughs out a laugh. "What, you mean like red thread of destiny?"

Torin raises an eyebrow. "Don't be silly, Souji. There's no such thing as _'red thread of destiny'._ "

Souji's face burns. "Considering everything that's happening..."

"No, there is no _red_ thread. Everyone's soul has a different color, so the everyone's thread, of course, have different colors." The hand on Souji's shoulder leaves only to pat his arm, and there's a small smile on Torin's face as he gestures to Souji's hand. "You should have walked far enough to be able to see it now."

Souji brings his hand up, blinking.

"Huh."

Around the base of his little finger is a smooth black thread tied loose enough not to leave marks, but tight enough not to fall off. It winds around his wrist once, featherlight against his skin before falling as far as his waist, and goes far to the back, following the black stone path he'd walked, swallowed by the expanse of white at a point Souji cannot see.

He touches the thread, feels it slide across his fingertips, and wonders out loud, "Where does this leads to?"

"Yourself," Torin answers, his tone knowing, "and the person you made the promise to."

**\-----o0o------**

Sometimes, Ian touches him so carefully that it drives Souji mad.

Featherlight fingers against his cheek, fleeting kisses against his lips. The trail of Ian's breath somehow feels more real and grounding than his touches, and Souji hates that, because no matter what Ian thinks, he's not a piece of glass ornament that could shatter anytime. He isn't going to break.

But he knows Ian, he knows that Ian is _terrified._ Of losing things important to him, of _having_ things important to him. Sometimes Souji thinks having a team is already pushing it--Ian is always scared, always looks at everyone like they could slip away and disappear any moment--and their relationship probably doesn't help with the fear, but when Ian presses their forehead together lightly, Souji can't find it in himself to regret.

"I think," Souji tells Ian one afternoon, when they're the only ones hanging out in Tiger Boy and Amy is busy with the register. "I'm glad that I love you."

Ian's cup of coffee hangs inches from his mouth as he pauses, soft eyes regarding Souji questioningly. "Hmm?"

A deflection. It's easier to see now, when Ian's eyes turn guarded, when his smile widen _just so_ to complete the mask of irresponsibility he likes to wear. Souji shakes his head, half-amused and half-exasperated, and turns to poke the cherry on top of his cream soda instead.

"You're always like that," he says with a small smile. "Trying so hard not to break anything, not to hurt anyone. Desperately wanting to protect, to get stronger because you _wish_ to protect, to at least make everyone a little less sad."

The clink of china tells Souji that Ian has put down his cup of coffee. There's some sort of staged laziness in the way Ian leans back, in the way he tilts his head, in the way his lips curl up into a smile. "Who are we talking about?"

Souji stares right into Ian's eyes. "You," he replies evenly. "I should know. I'm the same, aren't I?"

Somewhere behind them, Amy's cheerful voice bidding a new customer walking in resounds. The odd summer chime hanging by the window is dancing to the wind, tinkling daintily with each movement, nearly drowned by the wails of cicadas out there. And in the midst of this awful heat and humidity, Ian's black stays the same.

Ian huffs a short laugh. "Those are just your assumptions, Boy." His eyes shift, breaking Souji's gaze, and his smile goes tight on the edges, even if his shoulders relax further. "I'm not the kind of person who thinks that far. Or wish that strong, really. Being twenty-four is already tiring enough."

Souji closes his eyes. "You're never honest."

Ian flicks a piece of tissue paper at him, and because it's Ian, it somehow hits Souji on the nose. "You're always too blunt."

That's not true, Souji wants to say. He thinks Ian understands, too. Blunt doesn't always mean being honest. Blunt is how he deals with embarrassment--it's how he hides. Just like Ian hides his fear behind what looks like irresponsibility, Souji hides his shyness behind what sounds like bluntness. And really, there is not much difference between them, is there?

"None of us are very honest," Souji admits, and the corners of Ian's mouth lilts in an irritatingly smug smile. Not that Souji would let him have the victory. "But I don't hide anymore. Not that much."

Not to Ian. Not to their team. And he thinks it's unfair, that Ian still fears, while Souji tries to break past his own pretenses--that Ian gets to hide, still, when Souji struggles to be brave.

But Ian has always been a coward, and Souji is glad he's the one who falls for Ian.

"I'm not going to break," he says quietly. "Or leave you behind."

Across him, Ian stops moving. Souji thinks he's holding his breath, too, and feels his chest tighten with affection--this adult, whom he trusts with everything that he is, is only human. Beautifully flawed, scared and weak, and doesn't that what makes them all human?

"That's why, Ian--you don't need to be scared anymore."

There are things in life that requires more than bravery to make it work. Souji is glad he's the one who is in love with Ian, because if there's anything he knows how to do, it's pushing forward stubbornly, grasping for more strength to _protect._

He'll protect Ian from his fears.

"I won't leave," each syllable a vow from his heart, and Ian--Ian looks terrified, because of course he is, anyone would, to receive this promise is bravery in itself, because this is Souji giving his heart, and Ian cupping it in his palms, trembling fingers and all.

He holds Ian's gaze, waits until the fear in them turns into hardened resolution. Waits until Ian takes a breath, and then says, "I promise."

_I promise, so please don't be scared anymore._

Ian's smile is brittle, shaky at the edges, but there's gratefulness in his eyes. And when he kisses Souji, it's with newfound freedom and confidence, and Souji etches a laugh against his lips.

 _I promise_ , he repeats in his mind, and in the air they share together, he thinks he could hear Ian echoing his words, _I promise._

**\-----o0o------**

Souji tugs. The thread pulls at him, but doesn't strain.

By his side, Torin smiles.

"Choose bravely, Souji."

**\-----o0o------**

_I knew you'd be back_ , Zakutor says, and Souji feels him settle in the back of his mind, closer than the Velociraptor has ever been, all these time they fight together. _You never take the easy way out._

It's warm, having Zakutor so close. Souji sort of regrets that this proximity is simply temporary. This is the kind of connection to Zakutor that he wouldn't have been to reach when he was simply human--flexibility of souls, he supposes. "I'm back, Zakutor."

He hears Zakutor snort. _Save that for the others._

"I'm sorry. You must have been worried."

And because Zakutor is honest the way Souji has never had, he answers, _That's okay. You're back, now. At least part of you._

Souji smiles. Rolls Zakutor's Zyuudenchi in his palm. "Just for a while. Be patient with me, yeah?"

Zakutor roars, and Souji could literally taste the power before it envelopes him.

"Brave in!"

**\-----o0o------**

"Hey, Boy?"

Amidst the bright laughter that fills the Spirit Base, warm with well-wishes and Utsusemimaru's brand of birthday dishes, under the still falling confetti of ten different colors and lopsided, ridiculous party hats perching on everyone's head, Souji turns from the stacks of his birthday presents on the table with a laugh. "What is it, Ian?"

Amy manages to snap a picture of it: Ian leaning down slightly, expression soft and open, head tilted just so with a genuine smile, lips inches away from Souji's own--and Souji, flushing bright red, trying his hard not to smile like a loon.

In actuality, Souji doesn't remember any of it. What he remembers is this: Ian's breath upon his nose, and the happiness that laces Ian's words, which Souji feels rather than hears; " _I love you, Souji._ "

There's no kiss to seal the words, but none of them needs it, anyway.

**\-----o0o------**

**Author's Note:**

> (I love Rippuukan Souji a lot. I love Rippuukan Souji who loves his team a lot. I also love Rippuukan Souji who is helplessly in love with the ridiculous Ian Yorkland.)
> 
> Chapter Title is from Robert Frost's poem.
> 
> I will try to finish the epilogue after finals week and perhaps.. round this up. I still don't know where I was going with this orz.


End file.
